Feb. 12th, 2014

021214

Feb. 12th, 2014 11:03 am
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)






hungrylikethewolfie:

No but guys, GUYS, we need to talk about how important this scene is. Because the commonly accepted lore about unicorns is that they are so good and pure that they’ll only appear to young virginal girls. Because Molly Grue is a middle-aged woman who has been living with bandits for most of her life and is as far from innocent and virginal as you’re likely to get. Because she’s so angry that this creature, embodying everything that society tells her she’s lost, everything she’s thrown away through her own choices, is here now when all that The Unicorn represents is long since behind her. Because she knows, in a way that only someone who’s been steeped in an oppressive system her entire life can ever know, that she’s missed her chance and doesn’t deserve to be seeing a unicorn now.
And you know what? The Unicorn doesn’t [care] about her virginity, about her supposed loss of innocence and purity. She’s not repelled by Molly being older, being experienced, being a full human person. None of that has ever mattered to unicorns, only to the people telling stories about them. Not only does she step in to physically comfort her here, but before long this bandit’s wife becomes her friend, closer to her in most ways than Schmendrick.
This story is [honestly] revolutionary, you guys, and I just have a lot of feelings about it.


This was my favorite movie as a child (along with Dragonheart), but I never understood this scene. Not until this post. And I really, really needed to hear this.

...I've had an ancient plush unicorn in my room since I was 3. Her name is Unisalia. She was my #1 go-to gal when I was upset as a child, and now she works with my boss. So for two decades this unicorn has been a shockingly constant presence in my life, this silent old guardian.
The problem? My room has been a reservoir of terror and pain far too many times over the years. Yes, it's been a place of creativity and daydreams and sunlight, but it's also been a place of blood and panic and crushing despair as well, especially over the past decade.
That unicorn has seen me beaten, has seen me try to take my own life, has seen me fight tooth and nail with both invisible demons and the voices in my head. That unicorn has seen me begging God for deliverance with the words choking in my throat, has seen me bloodied and dead-eyed, has seen me used and defiled and treated as less than human. She knows that I had my virginity taken from me before I even knew it was a word.
And still, to this day, that unicorn lies at the foot of my bed, not thinking any less of me in spite of it all.
I've actually cried to her about it. "Why the hell do you stick around when I am effectively the antithesis of everything you represent, by this point?!" When I was incapable of seeing anything but a tar-stained horror in the mirror, something that all pure white things should run from, she disagreed. Nope, she was staying. That was all she'd say, as if that statement alone explained everything.
Now I guess it really did.
Maybe I did miss my chance. Maybe I don't deserve to be seeing her now, after all the other things I've beheld.
But, as the OP said, Unis really doesn't seem to care about that. She's here now, regardless of what I seem to have lost, regardless of what I will tearfully insist I've been reduced to. And she'll comfort me, even when I'm terrified that if I touch her, as something so allegedly impure, she'll disappear. But she doesn't.
...I think there's something pure and clear in all of us that never fades or dies, that unicorns can see, even if it's buried under years upon years of pain and fear and shame and self-hatred. And that's what draws them to people. It's not some elitist choosing of those who were lucky and protected enough to never be torn to bits. No, the unicorns will stand before kings and paupers, before saints and sinners, before virgins and whores, all the same... as long as we are willing, for even a second, to hope for that little glimmer within ourselves. If we can truly acknowledge that, even just for a fleeting moment, or if we can only mourn its alleged loss, for even a moment... I think that's what the unicorns are drawn to us by. They feel that we need them, as a reminder of some bigger and deeper truth, and in one way or another, they appear. And all we have to do is accept their presence. That's all.
Sorry for all the text. This just means a great deal to me.
Many sincere thanks to the OP for the clarification I've been seeking since my childhood.


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@ 12:45 PM

Dream for February 11th, 2014.
I was in SLC again, in some house I didn't recognize, but all my old friends were there (Q, Mel, KT, Xilats, etc.). I was feeling disastrously dissociative, and couldn't figure out how to speak very well. I wanted to know where I was going to sleep (apparently I had "just arrived" but no one had figured out lodging?), but as I was effectively mute, no one was paying attention to me, so I was just tailing Xilats. Either way, the ignorant actions of the people around me were causing me to get terribly switchy, and the "bad voices" started up. Sure enough, this started to happen-- it started to get harder and harder to front, and I felt as if I were possessed. I quickly ran up the nearest set of stairs, trying to get away from people in case the worst happened.
When I got to the top of the stairs, I practically collapsed on the landing, as some demonic voice was viciously trying to control the body and make us black out, but someone else inside was fighting them off the best they could. I don't know who they were, but through all that I could barely keep the body conscious from the strain. Then at one point, the demon-voice pinned the body to the floor (which used to happen in our teenage years IRL), and the voice who had been fighting them off actually cried for help, from me specifically. (That's... never happened before. Upon waking the significance of it just caught me in the heart.)
But I took over the body instantly at that, powered by that desire, and flipped the body around, posing like I was now pinning that demon down to the floor, keeping it from harming us (to a bystander I would have looked like I was wrestling a ghost). And I said, "don't you ever hurt the people in my headspace again, do you hear me?"
I can't remember the next thing that happened, but I ended up back downstairs and everyone was avoiding me like a freak, so I guess they had heard the fight upstairs. What I do remember is that Q punched me at one point? I think. He was fighting me and ended up knocking out one of my molars. It shocked me, and I promptly ended up bleeding everywhere, but I was so in disbelief of what had just happened that I couldn't move. Then I noticed I was bleeding over their rug (and getting dizzier by the second) so I asked for a towel or something, to stop the bleeding. However, people were actively turning around and leaving the room now when I approached them, even though I obviously needed help. I started to get very scared, as I was losing a lot of blood very fast. It quickly got to the point where I could barely walk or speak, and at one point I remember I really needed to lie down but I couldn't find a place in the house to do so. Right when I swore I was about to faint someone handed me a large blanket, and I remember thinking "should I stop the bleeding or lie down on it," and then I guess I did black out, because my memory cuts off very sharply right then.
The next thing I knew, I was lying in the back seat of a car, apparently being driven to the hospital by my mom. She made some sort of comment then, that she had been waiting for me to wake up, but she sounded very anxious and like she was avoiding mentioning something. I looked around as she spoke and unexpectedly found a journal of hers also in the back seat, so I flipped through it, hoping to find answers. Sure enough, that day's pages talked about how I had started dramatically "switching" upon her picking us up from the house-- meaning, I hadn't blacked out from blood loss, but because someone else had taken over! Apparently three "men" had come out-- Jeremiah, Knife, and one other unidentified but traumatized guy-- and she was concerned because she didn't know how to treat them correctly. She had spoken to all three of them at length though, I remember feeling this huge tug at my heart because I love my fellow System members, and from what she wrote, they were all terribly scared and distraught by the situation (not to mention Jerry and Knife are our two most softhearted men). I wanted to ask her about that, but was scared to-- after all, in the waking world, she denies us to our face, and is nowhere near so respectful of our personal needs. But it was nice, to have that in a dream, and I think on some level I recognized that and wanted it to continue when I woke up more than anything.
I don't remember anything after that.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@ 12:45 pm

Cross-posted from Tumblr.

"Headspace is back in my dreams again-- yes, we switch and dissociate in dreams too, it's surreal.
Last night some demonic voice was trying to control the body and make us black out, but someone else inside was fighting them off the best they could. I don't know who they were, but... at one point the demon-voice pinned their body to the floor (which used to happen in our teenage years IRL), and they actually cried for help, from me specifically. That's... never happened before. Upon waking the significance of it just caught me in the heart.
But I took over instantly, powered by that desire, and flipped the body around, posing like I was now pinning that demon down, keeping it from harming us. And I said, "don't you ever hurt the people in my headspace again, do you hear me?"

Because of that fight I ended up losing a molar and bleeding everywhere, but no one would help me. When I finally found myself in a car being driven to the hospital by my mom, I guess I had already blacked out, because I found a journal of hers in the back seat, with that day's pages documenting my switching upon her picking us up. Apparently three "men" had come out-- Jeremiah, Knife, and one other unidentified but traumatized guy-- and she was concerned because she didn't know how to treat them correctly. Unfortunately, IRL she denies us to our face, and is nowhere near so respectful of our personal needs. But it was nice, to have that in a dream.
I guess this is quite a random update, but I don't want to forget that.
We're doing well. Thanks to Sherlock and Spice taking the initiative in therapy last week, internal communication is now back on track. I don't know how often we'll update here, but as always the archives have everything.
In any case I'm very much looking forward to Friday-- it's virtually my personal holiday, and since it's also due to snow that day, I'm quite blissed out. In any case I will help make it a beautiful day for all of us.
I hope you're all doing well too."




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